


Light Bringer

by WauryD



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Kinda, Post-Canon, Spoilers, by a few hours
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-28
Updated: 2017-08-28
Packaged: 2018-12-21 00:28:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11932548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WauryD/pseuds/WauryD
Summary: DO NOT READ THIS IF YOU HAVEN'T SEEN S7 FINALE. SPOILERS.Jaime reflects on the day's events as he rides on. One bad word because of the canon 8)





	Light Bringer

Jaime adjusted his cloak against the wind as his steed rode on. It would be long way to the North, and he could only hope not to freeze before he got there. Any morsel of warmth and protection would be needed.

His thoughts went to the dreadful creature they had brought from beyond the Wall. It had terrified even Sandor Clegane, a man who moments prior had stood unflinching in front of the corruption that had been his brother. What chance did they have against an army of those evil things?

Brienne had been right, they had to join forces. Of course she had been, but he had to honour his vow to his Queen, didn’t he? That was something Brienne herself would have done, despite her call for him to “fuck loyalty”.

Until his Queen put him on the path to dishonour himself. Again. _She had done that so often_ , he reflected. That had been one too many.

Especially after being reminded, once more, that he could be a better man. Brienne’s expectations had shone through her impossibly blue eyes again and he’d been torn between duty and honour. _How often those two disconnected_ , he thought bitterly.

Brienne. She’d seemed well. He had been glad to see she had made her way back safely from Riverrun, but his guts had clenched in worry at seeing her so close to danger - to Cersei. Ironic, that he would worry more of her being down South than in the North, where the Dead walked.

He had spent a long time idly wondering what in her had gotten him to care so much. From the very start, they had been in opposite camps. Mortal enemies. How had he come to want to defy Cersei for her?

He'd seen ugly people before - ugly women, too, and though she was uncommonly striking in height, that wasn't quite it. He recalled her broken nose, and once more wished he could have measured himself against her at his full strength. She was an impressive opponent, and the fight would have been one to remember.

She didn't dazzle with femininity, either. Or grace. Quite the opposite, really: the bear had shown more of it than her, though she’d been agile enough. The angry wounds she’d suffered came to his mind, and the infinite freckles that marred her skin around them. On every inch of it, he thought, as their shared bath had revealed previously.

There was unusual strength in her body, though her mannish frame probably was to thank for most of that. Still, as a would-be-knight, she clearly knew how to cultivate it. She knew how to move, how to fight, how to kill. There was little show of prowess in her skills: she was efficient.

Her looks were not the cause of his fascination, he decided, and while she was quite talented with a blade, that wasn't it, either. He’d seen better swordsmen - he had _been_ one! 

Jaime recalled her stubbornness, her annoying dedication to her vows, whoever she made them to. She’d made them to Renly, and watched him die; then to Catelyn, who'd suffered the same fate. The idiot cow would gladly give her life for people who would use her without another thought.

There was bitterness in that thought, he realized. He’d been her, once: full of dreams and of ideals and of hopes for glory. What she still held on to, he’d seen corrupted in himself, and she just went on, blithely unaware that she would be broken by it, too. He often had wanted to shake her awake, to show her that it was all for naught. A lost cause.

Not that she would have listened.

Something tugged at the edge of his mind. She’d made a vow to him, as well. She believed that she could somehow salvage the remains of his honour for history and for the songs, even though even succeeding at that would change little. She must know, he thought. Her cleverness would never win her a place on any throne, but she wasn’t stupid. She had to know that it would not save him.

But she would try regardless. She would give her life for it, as if he was Renly or Catelyn, and the thought pained him. She was so inherently, dazzlingly good, annoyingly straight and bright -

 

A light.

 

That was it. A captivating, resoundingly blinding light.

He’d watched men and women react to seeing her for the first time, and lesser souls hated her on sight - as he had - as if darkness hissed at being disrupted and challenged.  Beautiful ladies somehow jealous of a woman who was neither threat to their prospects nor to the attention they received.  Knights who saw that star shining at her heart and wanted nothing more than to forcibly steal or corrupt it. 

Bitter, frozen lords who sneered at her for holding her loyalty tightly to that fire and doing everything she could to keep it burning.

No wonder he’d dreamed of her.

She had given him some of that light, he realized. Barely a flicker, when there had been no promise that he could keep it alive. But it was there still. He wondered if she had meant to do it. If hers had been diminished for it.

Jaime suddenly felt ashamed, as though he might have stolen from her. She deserved better, to be whole and to have someone who would feed that sun, not leech from it.

That brought the realization that he was now in the position to uphold her honour. She trusted him, and she must have vouched for him to whoever would listen, he knew. Even if that got her into trouble. She not only expected him to do as he vowed, but to do the right thing. Failing to do so would not tarnish only himself, anymore.

He had made the right decision, to leave King’s Landing. There was little else left for him there. How deep were Cersei’s secrets? How far had she planned with Euron Greyjoy?

Was her unborn child even his own? How could he know?

He recalled her sitting in the dragon pit, and Brienne with the Targaryen girl’s party. In her steady light, Cersei had exuded a malignant glow that he’d done his best to ignore. Olenna Tyrell’s words came to mind. A disease, she’d said.

Another annoying woman who had been right.

The sun was setting, and he knew he would have to ride on in the dark some more, to make good time. He was only one man, and not an army as had been promised, but he would do his best to fight alongside the Northerners.

And Brienne.

He’d just started a fire, after finally making camp, when his horse nearly bolted, terrorized. There was nothing around that he could see, and for a moment he feared the wights had already made their way that far south. He was about to seize a flaming branch to ward them off, when he felt it.

A low, growing rumble through the earth and the air, blowing an impossibly cold wind through him as the ground shook angrily. It felt as though it lasted an hour, and when it finally died down, he knew what had happened.

The Wall.

Hastily repacking everything back into the saddles, Jaime summoned Brienne’s blue eyes to his mind, refusing to let terror invade his heart. She would already be close to the danger. To the darkness.

He spurred his mount forward, hoping to the gods, old and new, that her light would guide his way to her on time.

**Author's Note:**

> Completely aware that I mixed the book's descriptions with the godly looks of Gwen Christie. I started writing this (my 5th attempt on the subject of Brienne's light, actually) two weeks ago and now I finally got the right frame for it. So there.


End file.
